


The Vampire LaCroix

by 1_mad_squirrel, Laurie of the Isles (1_mad_squirrel)



Series: Vampire Chronicles [2]
Category: Forever Knight
Genre: M/M, vampire bloodplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1765873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_mad_squirrel/pseuds/1_mad_squirrel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_mad_squirrel/pseuds/Laurie%20of%20the%20Isles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Intercourse With The Vampire", after their rapprochement, where do Nick and LaCroix go from there?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Propostion

**Author's Note:**

> Ratings by Chapter:   
> Chapter One: Mature  
> Chapter Two: Explicit  
> Chapter Three: Mature
> 
> This story is dedicated to Fenris, high priestess of the blue pencil,  
> for expert and patient beta-reading above and beyond the call, and for  
> writing "Burned by the Light" which inspired me to start writing.
> 
> Okay, now for the legal mumbo-jumbo: These characters belong legally (but  
> not in their hearts) to Sony-Tristar and a bunch of suits who have no  
> idea what to do with them. Well I *do* know what to do with them, so...

The Vampire LaCroix  
Part 01/?  
By 1_mad_squirrel  
June 13, 1998  
M/M, N/LC  
Romance/Lust/Titillation  
Not too explicit (yet) 

LaCroix sat watching the reflected play of the lights from the Raven'sdance floor on the glass of the broadcast booth. Only a small portion  
of his mind noted the pattern of colors winking before him. Another part of the master vampire's two-thousand year-old brain listened to the  
feed from the CERK studios, waiting for his cue to go on air. The rest of him reverberated with the poignant thrum of emotion pouring through  
the link from Nicholas.

In a way, the ancient vampire regretted having slipped out of the loft while Nick showered, but LaCroix was glad there had been no awkward  
leave-taking to mar the memory of his reunion with his beloved. It *had* been a reunion in every sense of the word: the passion, the  
sharing of blood and the linking of minds into one entity, which marked the height of vampiric ecstasy.

His passion rekindled by his memories, LaCroix reached through the link to Nicholas, and felt his son nearly overwhelmed by gnawing doubt. The  
ancient one knew his son was starting to second-guess every word, every gesture of their passionate rapprochement. LaCroix felt a pall of dread  
descend to quench the brilliant light of Nicholas' spirit.

Nicholas's sire ached for his son's distress, and cursed the decades of hostility that threatened to rend their newly reforged bond. Separated  
from his Nicholas, LaCroix for the first time felt his broadcast a barrier rather than a connection to his son. The thought  
triggered an inspiration, and LaCroix quickly rifled through his CD collection. He made a brief introduction, and reached out to his son  
with a message of love and patience, in the words of the Harold Arlen song, "This Time the Dream's on Me" Through the link, the father felt  
his child soothed and deeply moved by the warm, honeyed voice of Ella Fitzgerald.

To further assure his son, LaCroix let his memories of the day flow through the link, and felt them twine with Nicholas' own. In a rare  
relaxation of his iron mental control, LaCroix lost himself in the deluge of remembered passion. United in the link, the lovers rejoiced  
in the memory of the all-enveloping blood bond. They felt again the mending of a connection nearly destroyed by more than one hundred years  
of mutually inflicted pain. Their passion was given new life in the shared memories, and in almost reverent wonder, LaCroix and Nicholas  
felt new-formed tendrils of love and trust entwining across the scorched plains of old battles.

Inspired again, LaCroix reached among his impressive music collection and retrieved his favorite of Sting's CD's, "Dream of the Blue Turtle".  
As the Harold Arlen classic came to a close, the former general of Caesar's armies cued the eerily appropriate "Fortress Around Your  
Heart". LaCroix thought how well the song described the scarred and wasted landscape that had been his relationship with Nicholas over the  
last century.

With a start, the ancient one realized this last had proved a bit much for Nicholas. Overcome with emotion, Nick had let his attention to the  
road waver, and now found himself in the path of oncoming traffic. LaCroix reached a steadying "hand" through the link just in time prevent  
a head-on collision. The other car, possessing no such remote control, swerved wide to avoid Nick's Caddy, and drove up onto the curb,  
acquiring a parking meter for a hood ornament. 

LaCroix sensed with annoyance Nicholas' guilty panic as he rushed to the other car. The old master's impatience turned to perverse glee as he  
"listened" to Nicholas exchanging insurance information with an entire carload of Jehovah's Witnesses.

Chuckling at his son's predicament, LaCroix noticed with alarm that the song which had caused such delightful mayhem was about to end. He  
quickly rummaged among the rows of CD's and with less than a second to spare, cued the next song. The ancient vampire allowed himself to be  
distracted by the thought of his loyal listeners' confusion at his choice of music this evening. Though not usually reflected in his show,  
LaCroix taste in music was extremely eclectic and included the better contemporary popular music. (It did *not* include, as a vicious Community 

rumor alleged, a secret fondness for the Dave Clark Five.)

LaCroix felt his son's amusement at this, and realized with a shock just how open this reforged bond of theirs was. The ancient Roman was used  
to being able to sense Nicholas, but for his son to be able to read him so easily was jarring. LaCroix quickly slammed down a barrier on his  
end of the link, and began to brood on the shift in the balance of power in his relationship with his son. 

The ancient vampire, who for so long had commanded, coerced and manipulated, had held himself back this time, and his Nicholas had come  
to *him* It was a revelation, but not one with which he was entirely easy. LaCroix' being, his entire two-thousand year history, resisted  
the notion of relaxing control. The old soldier's deepest instincts warred with the memory of Nicholas reaching out to him, caressing him,  
feeding from him, and making love with him in the perfect unity of the blood bond. With a mental discipline honed at the head of Caesar's most  
victorious army, LaCroix clamped down on the dark thoughts. He reasoned that he didn't have to solve the problem tonight, and thought with a  
light chuckle how much fun it would be figuring it out. 

LaCroix remembered how he had hated to let Nicholas go earlier, but had done so with grace. Inwardly the older vampire had wanted nothing more  
than to pull his lover back down into his arms for another ten hours. LaCroix chafed at the time lost to them while Nicholas indulged in his  
"mortal" life.

That thought recalled the memory of LaCroix' own obligations, and he realized that all too soon, he would have to go away. The business that  
called him out of town would not wait, not even for long lost love. Then the idea came to LaCroix: "take Nicholas along." The old general  
weighed the risk that Nicholas would discover the nature of his business, against the delightful thought of having his son all to  
himself, no distractions. LaCroix sighed as he realized his heart had once again overcome his better judgment, where Nicholas was concerned.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Only the younger members of the vampire community and a few hardy mortals were left at the Raven, as Nicholas threaded his way through the  
undulating dancers. LaCroix watched his son approach, eyes glued to his lover's from the moment Nicholas walked in. The older vampire  
maintained his casual pose against the bar as his son came to a halt mere inches from him. The two stood drinking each other in, reveling  
in the electric honey of arousal that flowed between them. 

LaCroix' lips parted in a ghost of a smile.

"Nicholas," he murmured, with a slight nod.

"LaCroix," Nick returned, his tone making LaCroix shudder.

Without another word, Nicholas moved past his master, towards the door to LaCroix' private quarters. The young one turned back, eyebrows  
raised, to see his lover rooted to his spot. LaCroix shook himself, and moved with leonine grace to follow his son.

Inside the velvet darkness of the inner sanctum, LaCroix felt himself pushed back against the door as Nicholas plastered himself along his  
sire. Nick's lips pressed hungrily against LaCroix' own questing mouth. Too soon the golden head pulled away.

"Don't do that again." Nick breathed hoarsely.

"What?" LaCroix managed, his voice barely a whisper.

"The music, the link... I had to *work* after that!" Nicholas nuzzled LaCroix' neck, breathing in his lover's scent.

LaCroix gasped at the sensations and pulled away slightly.

"Yes, well, your little mishap seemed to cool your ardor." LaCroix replied with a small wicked smile, "Nicholas, surrounded by half a dozen  
earnest missionaries! Better than a cold shower, eh?"

Nick glared at him and started to pull away. His master held him fast, and planted a light kiss at either corner of Nicholas' lips.

"Don't be sullen. Just how do you think you avoided wrecking that precious Cadillac of yours?"

Nick's eyes widened in surprise, he'd been so absorbed in trying not to become a traffic statistic, he hadn't suspected that the last second  
reprieve wasn't all his own doing. LaCroix chuckled, stealing another quick kiss. 

The taller man pushed away from the door, and depositing Nicholas on the sofa, moved to decant two glasses of his finest vintage. LaCroix  
returned to the sofa and handed a glass to his son. Nicholas sipped tentatively, and as his sire watched, his expression changed from unease  
to near arousal.

"Yes, exquisite, isn't it?" LaCroix breathed. 

Nick glanced up at his master and drank deeply of the crimson ambrosia. The glass emptied, Nicholas tilted his head back to regard his master,  
who stood just removed from his son, watching. LaCroix saw the golden threads seep into Nicholas' eyes.

"Why are you over there?" Nick's hoarse voice fairly growled with need.

LaCroix felt an electric shock through his body and fought to keep control. 

"I have something to discuss with you before we get too...involved." The silken voice was deceptively calm.

LaCroix watched the struggle written plain on his son's face as Nicholas wrestled his need under control. 

"What is it?" the young one asked finally.

"I'm going away shortly," LaCroix began, watching his son intently, "to America, Washington, DC. I cannot postpone it. Come with me."

Nicholas' face, which had fallen slightly at first, took on a look of pleased surprise.

"Why DC?" Nick asked, clearly happy that his lover did not want to be without him.

LaCroix regarded him a long moment, considering his answer.

"I want to see the cherry blossoms." came the incredible response.

"In the *dark*?!?" Nick quizzed him, sounding both amused and suspicious.

"There's a marvelous new invention, Nicholas, it's called the electric streetlight." LaCroix returned evenly.

Nick knew he wasn't getting a straight answer, and he decided he didn't care. He had the time off coming to him, and it would give him a chance  
to work out just how the events of the last twenty-four hours would figure into the rest of his life. With that thought, and the prospect  
of being with LaCroix in a beautiful city, his choice was made.

Nick looked up with a lopsided grin.

"When do we leave?"

Continued in Part two


	2. Georgetown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Christening" the townhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit

 

LaCroix smiled as Nicholas looked around in delight at the exquisite drawing room of the eighteenth century Georgetown house that was to be their home in Washington, DC. It had been restored with meticulous accuracy, the original architectural features uncovered or  
faithfully replicated. Even more importantly, the house was fitted with cleverly concealed steel shutters, so vital to any vampire who wished to avoid being incinerated by the rising sun. 

The attractive, efficient looking vampire female who had met them at the airport showed them room by room through the rest of the house. As they toured the third floor, Nick took hold of LaCroix’ elbow, holding him back, and pitching his voice too low for even another vampire’s hearing, whispered,

“One of us is a real estate agent?”

LaCroix raised an eyebrow. “That surprises you?”

Nick looked slightly uncomfortable. “It’s just so…prosaic.” He explained.

The older vampire smiled wickedly at his son. “We can’t all be homicide detectives, Nicholas.”

Unable to think of a retort, Nick stuck out his tongue.

“Promises, promises.” LaCroix purred.

Nick choked on a laugh as the Realtor returned.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, I didn’t realize you had stopped.” 

“That’s quite all right,” LaCroix answered with a small smile, “Nicholas was just expressing his surprise at finding such an... understanding Realtor.”

The Chanel-clad woman smiled. “I hit upon the idea some time ago when I had—difficulty—securing a suitable new home. I’d had to relocate rather suddenly.” She finished with a rueful smile.

Nick and LaCroix exchanged a knowing glance. “We’ve been there.” Nick told her. 

The woman gave a short, dry laugh. “So have most of the Community. Between Aristotle and myself, we’re a veritable vampire relocation protection program.”

Nick grinned at her. “You know Aristotle, then?”

The woman nodded. “I apprenticed with him.”

The men traded looks. Aristotle was known for his obsessively solitary nature. If he had agreed to work with her, she had to be much more than a pretty face.

************************************************************************************

The young woman finished up their tour with a demonstration of the state-of-the-art security system, which impressed even Nick. With a few words to LaCroix about “sympathetic” local establishments, she took her unobtrusive leave.

LaCroix turned to regard Nicholas, who stood looking at a painting on the far side of the room. “Singular creature,” the older vampire remarked, “she can’t be more than three hundred years old.” Nick nodded absently, nervously shifting his weight. LaCroix was  
beside him instantly without ever seeming to move. Nick felt the pull of his master’s intense gaze, and lifted his eyes to meet LaCroix’. The ancient Roman read discomfort in the beautiful eyes, and reached a hand to gently caress Nicholas’ cheek. 

“Tell me.” LaCroix said simply. His face took on an expression of rare tenderness.

For a moment Nick looked even more uncomfortable as he gathered his unruly thoughts. “What now?” he asked finally. 

LaCroix’ expression softened even further as he reached out to Nicholas through the link. He pushed gently through the layer of Nicholas’ unsettled thoughts. The older vampire had to suppress a rueful laugh at what he found beneath. > They were completely and truly alone with each other for the first time since their reconciliation. The solitude they had wished for so fervently was proving to be a double-edged sword. There would be no interruptions. It was just the two of them, a great deal of time, and an empty house in a strange city.

LaCroix smiled into Nicholas’ eyes, caressing a fine cheekbone with the backs of his fingers. “We’ve done quite well in such circumstances in the past.” 

Nick broke into a grin that lit his face. He leaned into his master, grasping him by the elbows. “Think we can manage a repeat performance?”  
LaCroix’ eyes swept over his beloved’s face, lingering on the sensuous lips. “It looks promising.” LaCroix’ eyes closed. He brushed Nicholas’ lips with his own and was rewarded with a muffled moan. Nick’s tongue pressed between LaCroix’ lips, teasing in between his upper  
lip and teeth before plunging into his lover’s waiting mouth. LaCroix gasped at the delicious stirring in his fangs and groin. Nicholas smiled into his sire’s mouth, and LaCroix detected a twinge of humor in the link. The golden-haired imp moved his hands from his master’s  
arms, and ran his fingers lightly, tantalizingly up his lover’s back. LaCroix growled in arousal, and plundered his son’s mouth, sucking desperately on the honey-sweet tongue. The link was wiped clean of all save blinding lust, as Nicholas ground his erection against his  
master’s.

LaCroix pulled his mouth away from his beloved’s, chuckling at the answering growl of frustration. The older man wanted to prolong things a bit. He stepped back from his lover; brutally ignoring the protest of his hard shaft as it lost contact with Nick’s equally turgid  
member. The eyes that met LaCroix’ glowed gold with vampiric arousal and need. A small, wicked smile played over the ancient one’s features as he pushed the fine wool jacket off the younger man’s shoulders, sweeping the sleeves down off Nick’s arms. LaCroix let the jacket  
fall to the floor, and turned his attention to opening his lover’s shirt. He moved down relentlessly, button by button, never taking his eyes from Nicholas’ burning gaze. LaCroix drew the shirttails out of his son’s trousers. Nick’s breathing grew ragged at the sensation of  
the fine silk sliding over his skin. 

Nicholas became nearly enraged with thwarted anticipation, when LaCroix stopped and stood back with his hands at his sides, raising an expectant eyebrow at his beloved creation. 

Nick’s brain re-engaged with an almost audible click, and he reached out to his lover, repeating every motion. LaCroix reached his right hand and traced a fingertip down Nicholas’ chest and abdomen, watching the ripple of pleasure that played over his lover’s face. Nick grinned and raised the fingertips of both hands to rest on the hollow at the base of LaCroix’ throat, and then traced them outward, along the collarbone, his hands pushing his master’s shirt off his shoulders. LaCroix shrugged the shirt off, and felt a frisson of pleasure as Nicholas’ eyes drank in the sight of his master’s finely sculpted torso. 

The older vampire mirrored his son’s moves, and Nick’s shirt joined LaCroix’ on the floor. It was LaCroix’ turn to admire the corded muscles of Nicholas’ chest, arms and belly. Both men’s bodies had been molded by the hard life of a warrior, and were forever preserved by the gift of eternity. LaCroix hooked a finger into Nicholas’ waistband and pulled his lover roughly to him. Twin gasps greeted the collision of their bodies, as flesh touched flesh, each man reveling in the exquisite feel of the other’s hardened nipples against him. LaCroix’ arms stole around Nicholas’ waist and his hands roamed south, grasping Nick’s ass and pulling it to him, bringing his lover’s straining erection crushing against his own. Nicholas flung his arms around his master’s neck, and running his hands through the short spiky hair, pressed himself harder against LaCroix. The taller man hissed as he felt first Nick’s lips, and then his tongue trace the great vein in his neck. LaCroix bent his head to  
return the favor, and thrust his leg between Nicholas’, sending him off balance and bringing the two of them crashing to the floor. 

Nick gloried in the feel of his lover’s weight on him. He thrust his hips up to meet LaCroix’, and ran his hands down his back, pinching and kneading as he went. LaCroix gave a stifled moan against Nick’s mouth, and began thrusting his tongue in time with his hips. Nicholas’  
hands had finished their journey down LaCroix’ back, and now pushed impatiently at the waistband of LaCroix’ tailored slacks. LaCroix rolled them onto their sides, giving Nick full access to the fastenings of his master’s trousers. The younger vampire’s fingers fumbled in their eagerness, and finally tore viciously, sending buttons skittering across the floor. 

 

LaCroix laughed, his head thrown back, as he deftly maneuvered Nicholas’ trousers open and pushed them down over his hips. Nick wriggled slightly, lifted his right hip off the floor and kicked the trousers off. Nicholas then turned his attention to rendering LaCroix similarly unadorned. Undergarments where disposed of with lightning speed, and at last the lovers lay naked. They were still for a moment, each feasting on the sight of the other. 

With a blur of movement, Nicholas threw a leg over LaCroix, and rolled him onto his back. Nick raised himself to straddle LaCroix’ hips, and paused, grinning down at his master. LaCroix lay under him, surprised and delighted by his protégé’s initiative. The ancient Roman stretched luxuriantly under his lover, savoring the anticipation of Nicholas’ next move. The golden head dipped, dropping kisses on his sire’s chest, alternating with occasional nips as he worked his way down towards the corded abdomen. LaCroix sunk his now extended fangs into his lower lip and took Nicholas’ head in his hands, loving the feel of the shining curls between his fingers and tickling his belly. Nick paused, swirling his tongue around LaCroix’ navel, dipping in and out, finally taking the fold of flesh between his teeth. The Roman roared as Nicholas put his newly extended fangs to use, piercing the navel, and drawing hungrily at the wound before it closed LaCroix took advantage of Nick’s momentary  
blood-induced lassitude, rolling him over to minister similarly to the knight.

The short-cropped head halted suddenly in its leisurely trail down the golden-fleeced chest. LaCroix snapped his head towards the front window. Nick watched as his master retreated into himself, recognizing the look of total concentration on his sire’s face. LaCroix focused his thoughts, honing his sensitive mind to pick up the source of the mental blip that had caught his attention. The tense features relaxed into a grin, as LaCroix found what he sought. 

The lovely Realtor sat transfixed in her car out front. Her cell phone lay on the floor where she had dropped it when the sensations hit her. The Roman chuckled and passed the image to Nicholas. The woman’s fangs flashed, her eyes were half closed and blazing gold, her breathing rapid, her left hand clenched and unclenched on the steering wheel, and her right had strayed to caress her breasts. Nicholas’ amusement sparkled through the link as he realized they had been so consumed with each other, they had dropped all barriers, and had been broadcasting to anyone close enough or sensitive enough to receive. With the cessation of activity inside the house, the woman recovered herself slightly, then froze in horror. She was mortified at the thought of having intruded on the privacy of a client, and so powerful an Elder. She began to tremble. LaCroix sent her reassurance; he let her know that he was not angry, he knew the woman had not intentionally eavesdropped. The old  
general felt her sigh of relief as she started the Jaguar, pulled expertly out of the small space, and sped towards Wisconsin Avenue. LaCroix was certain she was headed straight for one of those “sympathetic establishments” she’d mentioned earlier. He chuckled inwardly, as he  
returned to his task. 

Nick’s attention was yanked back from the aroused figure in the car, to find LaCroix’ lips tantalizing his lower abdomen. The knight bucked his hips, trying to force his lover’s torturing lips into contact with his erection. LaCroix chuckled low in his throat, as he kissed the springing curls, and ignoring Nicholas’ straining cock, began kissing and lapping his way towards his toes. The sensation of his master’s short bristled hair against the flesh of Nick’s inner thighs was almost more than the younger man could bear. Nicholas uttered a feral growl as LaCroix’ tongue swirled in circles down his right leg, paused to investigate the hollow of his knee, and descended to his ankle. Nick gasped as he felt LaCroix’ tongue rasp along the arch of his foot, and up between his toes. LaCroix paused a moment, looking up to meet the golden eyes of his lover. Without warning he struck, piercing Nick’s big toe and drawing hard on the wound. Nick screamed, and nearly lost control. 

LaCroix felt his son about to go over the edge, and stopped his feeding. Giving the small wounds a last healing lick, he slid up until he lay between his lover’s legs. Nick reached down and pulled LaCroix to him for a kiss. The younger man ran one hand up the back of his  
lover’s head, grabbing a handful of hair, the other hand swept down LaCroix’ back to take possession of a firm, rounded buttock. LaCroix moaned and deepened the kiss, curling his tongue around Nick’s, then flicking his tongue lightly across the roof of Nick’s mouth. Nick responded, making darting side-to-side motions with the tip of his tongue, starting just behind his master’s teeth, and moving deeper, over the hard palate, until he heard LaCroix growl in arousal. The ancient one pulled up slightly to view his beloved. The Roman was nearly overcome with the sight before him. Nicholas’ eyes had returned momentarily to their brilliant blue, and he was regarding his master with complete love and trust. LaCroix could hardly bear to hold the bright gaze. He choked on a sob as he realized he had been forbidding himself to hope of ever seeing that look again. 

LaCroix felt almost crushed under the weight of his love for his son. He felt it like a squeezing in his chest, almost paralyzing in its intensity. Always the master, the conqueror, the emotions threatening to overwhelm him triggered a driving need to overpower and possess Nicholas, as if in dominating him, LaCroix could control the emotions he inspired. Nicholas watched as the gold of the eyes above him deepened to red, their expression twisting from one of breathtaking tenderness, to one of near animal need. He had seen the look before, knew its meaning, and despite the urge to flee which screamed inside him, Nick somehow knew that today was different, LaCroix was different. The hand that rested on the back of LaCroix’ head moved slowly, gently to caress his cheek, and with a look of pure faith, Nicholas raised his head to brush his master’s lips in a tender kiss. 

Nick rested his head back on the floor, and watched as LaCroix’ face changed, registering the extraordinary gift he had been given. The link began to resonate, softly at first, then increasing in its intensity, with a new emotion almost like a change of chords. The red tinged haze through which LaCroix saw his son began to clear, and his blood calmed, leaving him in a state of peace he had never before known. 

LaCroix raised a trembling hand and brushed Nicholas’ lips with his thumb. He framed Nick’s face with his hands, and moved up slightly to kiss his son’s eyes closed. The ancient one continued down his beloved’s face, kissing his cheeks, his mouth his chin, slithering down the knight’s body to kiss a burning trail down Nick’s neck and chest. LaCroix paused when his chin met the slick, engorged tip of his son’s straining cock. The Roman looked up into his lover’s eyes, holding them captive with his own, and took Nicholas into his mouth.

The younger man let out a long, wailing moan as LaCroix gently pushed the foreskin back began swirling his tongue around the exposed head. Nick’s cock oozed more precome and his lover lapped at it, dipping his tongue into the slit, and swirling back out again. The golden head began to thrash from side to side as LaCroix ran his tongue down the vein on the underside of Nick’s cock. LaCroix rained soft kisses on Nick’s balls, and carefully took them into his mouth, laving them with a diabolically talented tongue. The ancient one felt then tender orbs contracting towards Nick’s body, signaling the nearness of release. LaCroix grasped Nick’s cock in a sure grip, and with one stroke heard Nicholas cry out his shuddering climax, as he covered his master’s hand with red-tinged come. 

With a final loving lick, the Roman released Nick’s balls, and lifting them gently out of the way, brought his come-slick fingers to caress the puckered ring of muscle below. Nick gasped, and raised his lower body off the floor, trying to force the fingers inside him. LaCroix grasped a pile of discarded clothes in his free hand and shoved them under Nicholas’ raised hips. Nick pulled his knees up to his chest, giving his lover full access, and LaCroix slowly pushed a slick finger into the tight opening. Nick let out a low moan, and LaCroix continued, pushing the  
finger in further and wriggling it to open his son. When Nick’s moans grew desperate he slid in a second finger, and a third, until the moans turned to keening wails. Nicholas raised his head to meet LaCroix’ intense gaze, the younger man’s eyes pleading with his master to give him what he was beyond asking for with his voice. 

LaCroix withdrew his fingers, and covered his hard shaft with the remaining slickness. He kneeled closer to his son, positioned himself above Nicholas, and looking into his son’s eyes, began pressing into him. LaCroix nearly lost control as he felt the exquisite tightness engulf  
the tip of his shaft. The former general paused, let out his breath with a hiss, and took another and another, until he felt his control return. With one more breath he gathered himself and as he exhaled, he slowly pushed until he felt himself fully buried in his son. LaCroix found he’d squeezed his eyes shut, and opened them to look upon his lover. 

Nicholas’ unseeing eyes were wide open and fully changed, lost in his own sensations. The knight groaned as LaCroix leaned his full weight on him to reach Nicholas slick, parted lips with his own. Nick sucked at his master’s tongue, desperate for the relief of having some way to react. LaCroix moved his hands to rest on either side of Nicholas’ shoulders, and pushed deeper into his son, shifting his weight to his forearms. Nick grunted into his lover’s mouth at the feel of the pressure deeper inside him. Nicholas ground his hips from side to side, trying to feel his master everywhere at once. LaCroix gave a smile that was almost a grimace and with a slight move of his hips, changed his angle of penetration. Nick gasped as he felt his LaCroix’ hard shaft brushing his most sensitive spot, and began bucking his hips, desperately fucking his master’s cock to bring himself to climax. LaCroix gasped at his son’s wantonness, and feeling his own release near, shifted all his weight to one arm, and grasped Nicholas’ shaft, stroking him, and running his thumb across the weeping tip. Nick screamed as he began to come, releasing in powerful spurts, covering his lover’s hand and his own belly.

His son’s spasms tipped LaCroix over the edge and he shot deep into his son, the sight of Nick’s face suffused with ecstasy prolonging LaCroix’ pleasure until at the height of his climax, he lunged at his son, driving his fangs into the sweetness of Nick’s great artery. Nick bent his head and sunk his fangs into the juncture of his master’s neck and shoulder. LaCroix collapsed on his childe, his muscles suddenly liquid as he lost himself in Nicholas. 

 

The pair lay shuddering as each was ravaged anew by the other’s pleasure. Finally, they were still. 

 

Continued in chapter three.


	3. Dupont Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploring the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teen and up, humor

Nicholas awoke to the sensuous aroma of his master's cologne. He opened his eyes and smiled to find LaCroix standing by the bedside, gazing 

down at him while absently fastening the black onyx and diamond cufflinks Nicholas had recently given him. Sleepy sapphire blue eyes narrowed 

in mock annoyance.

"How am I supposed to sleep while you're thinking about me like that?" Nick rumbled, his smile belying his words.

LaCroix felt a slight quickening in his groin at his lover's soft baritone voice, rendered even lower by the last vestiges of sleep. The old 

Roman's mouth quirked in a small smile that spoke of deep affection. He finished with the last cufflink and reached down to brush a curl off of 

Nicholas' fine, high forehead. 

"I have a meeting, but I didn't want to go without speaking with you."

Nick sat up in bed. The covers pooled at his waist, revealing a perfectly molded chest. His eyes lit with curiosity.

"You really do have a meeting? And here I was thinking that was just a ruse to get me to go away with you. I'm insulted." Nick grinned up at 

his master with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. LaCroix snorted made a halfhearted attempt to glower at his offspring.

"Really, Nicholas, I'm wounded that you think I would stoop to such subterfuge. Just for that, I ought to send a message to your Captain Reese 

telling him you've run away with me and you're not coming back."

Nick's eyes widened briefly but he quickly schooled his features into the picture of innocence.

"Oh, I don't think you'd do that."

One Roman eyebrow rose. "And why not?"

"Because ever since I brought them the fever cure, I'm the Enforcers' best friend." Nick sat back looking very pleased with himself. He'd done 

it. LaCroix was stunned. 

The elder vampire gathered his dignity about him and swept from the room, turning back in the doorway.  
"I shall be back in two hours. You'll be up and dressed by then?"

Nick nodded, still chuckling.

"Good, I think informal dress will do. Oh, and Nicholas?"

The knight felt a wicked spark of amusement arc through the link. 

"You have bed head."

The ancient turned on his heel and was gone.

 

**********************

 

LaCroix returned as promised at the end of two hours, giving no clue as to the nature of his outing. Nick's curiosity was piqued, but he was 

willing to let LaCroix tell him in his own good time. The old Roman found Nick up and showered but still in his red brocade dressing gown. 

"I should have thought you'd be dressed by now, Nicholas." The general's oft-exercised eyebrow rose again.

"Oh, I would have been, but I wasn't sure what you meant by "casual". No sense in having to get dressed twice." 

"I meant exactly what I said, casual. Just dress comfortably, Nicholas. I have not yet had my evening stroll. I thought you might join me, and 

see some of the city." 

 

******

 

With Nick comfortably dressed in jeans, loose silk shirt and a brown leather jacket, they left the townhouse, heading west to Wisconsin Avenue. 

It was a crisp early spring night. In the clear sky the stars still retained their winter brightness. It had been a hard winter, and 

Georgetown was teeming with people trying to shake their cabin fever. Nick and LaCroix strolled slowly, watching the crowd and looking in shop 

windows. Almost to M Street, Nick caught LaCroix' elbow and pointed up, chuckling. Above the window of a tiny shop, a sign read "Hats in the 

Belfry". LaCroix quirked a grin and pulled Nicholas along. If he remembered his protégé's fondness for hats, if he let Nicholas into the 

shop, it would take blasting powder to get him out again.

They reached the intersection and turned to head east on M Street, eventually leaving the shops and eighteenth century architecture behind for a 

modern business district interspersed with nineteenth century buildings. The crowds thinned somewhat, but there was still a fair number of 

people, each block of  
M Street having at least one restaurant or bar. Nick spent most of the time surreptitiously observing his master. It had been decades since he 

had last accompanied LaCroix on his evening stroll, and Nick was surprised to find that the old Roman seemed perfectly content to merely watch 

humanity as it bustled around them. There was no sign of the coiled creature of prey. Nick felt a surge of affection for his master, which he 

let spill over into their link. The ancient paused for a moment, his breath drawn in sharply in a quiet gasp. Nick turned to him with an 

inquiring look. LaCroix merely shook his head, and gestured to his son in a 'Shall we?' kind of motion. The two continued their stroll in 

companionable silence.

At Connecticut Avenue they turned north, and soon the marble fountain in DuPont Circle was before them. Though it had been dark for several 

hours, there were still a few bike messengers lingering, along with the inevitable street denizens, who had already staked their claims on their 

favorite steam grates. Nicholas had not been in Washington DC in years, having had his fill of politics after the debacle in the 1960's with 

the Senator he had thought was such fine choice for president. LaCroix however, seemed to know the city and this neighborhood well. As they 

strolled further north on Connecticut, he was not surprised, as Nick was, at the sight of male couples openly holding hands. Nick began to 

notice a definite trend in the shops of the neighborhood, almost all bore signs indicated that they were gay-oriented or at least gay-friendly 

and in the case of one club, where through the solid glass front, passers-by could watch men drinking, dancing and kissing, very friendly 

indeed.

After two blocks, LaCroix steered them to the east and for a block or so they admired the beautifully maintained late nineteenth-century 

architecture for which the DuPont circle neighborhood was famous. Nick found the elegant Mansard roofed buildings reminded him a great deal of 

certain parts of Paris. Turning south again on 17th Street, Nick's preternatural hearing picked up dozens of conversations and he turned to see 

block after block of restaurants with tables spilling out onto the wide sidewalks. The scent of several different cuisines reached them. Nick 

could definitely pick out the aromas of Spanish, Italian and Japanese cooking. Among the sidewalk diners were couples of every conceivable 

combination, and here and there they saw a dog tied to a railing, being surreptitiously fed by the patrons. Though the night was a bit cool, 

here, as in Georgetown, people seemed determined for it to be Spring, and were not letting a little detail like temperature interfere. 

The hallmark of this neighborhood seemed to be diversity. Nick noted everything from gay and lesbian couples, to entire Latino families 

walking down the street, each one down to the smallest child carrying a bag of groceries. As they headed south on 17th Street, they made sure 

to give the tethered dogs a wide berth. Only rarely had dogs reacted negatively to them, but when they had, the results had been spectacularly 

noisy and both men wished to avoid attracting attention. The night had been so pleasant; neither wanted anything to spoil it. 

The vampiric pair was just about to turn the corner back towards Connecticut Avenue, when Nick stopped in his tracks. LaCroix turned and 

watched in alarm as his son's face turned even paler than usual, and seemed to collapse in on itself. Then came an eruption of sound from the 

younger vampire, a choking noise that had LaCroix even more concerned. Nick doubled over, and LaCroix quickly moved to support him. In a 

moment the knight had righted himself, and the choking noise resolved itself into laughter, all out, full-bore, right from the gut, laughter. 

LaCroix was thoroughly flummoxed, he couldn't recall ever having seen his admittedly mercurial offspring let go this way before. He was even 

more mystified as to the source of the humor. Nicholas tried several times to speak, but finally just gave up and pointed. LaCroix followed 

the gesture and found himself looking at the back bumper of a car. It was fairly covered in stickers. There was a rainbow flag sticker, a 

square blue sticker with a letter of the Greek alphabet in orange, a small sticker with a five-pointed star within a circle and the last and 

largest that read: "It's your Hell, you burn in it!". LaCroix couldn't believe it, there was the very challenge he had been hurling at the 

world of piety for almost 2000 years. There, in public, on a car's bumper was a sentiment that in most of the centuries he had lived through 

would have gotten the speaker burned at the stake. As LaCroix turned to meet Nick's gaze, he heard something he would never in a million years 

have expected. The somber, moody, self-castigating Knight of the Cross -- giggled. 

Shaking his head, LaCroix grasped Nick by the upper arm and began pulling him to the edge of the sidewalk muttering, "That's it, I'm taking you 

home. Taxi!"

 

Work unfinished...maybe someday.


End file.
